Role Reversal
by ItsComplicatedOkay
Summary: Altria Emiya, amateur magus, is plunged head first into a War that, according to her father, shouldn't have started yet. In that War, she meets a very interesting Servant. "So we meet again... Servant Saber. Upon your summoning, I have come forth. I ask of you, are you my Master?" *Not a gender-swap*
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! You may recognize me from the comedy/derp fanfiction "Unlimited Harem Works". I'm trying to take a more serious approach to F/SN this time. Anyway, if you have any questions or criticisms, please leave a review. I'll make sure to respond to them if needed.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Fate franchise. I'm making no money off of this, for obvious reasons.**

**Enjoy!**

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_Chapter 1: An Unlikely Meeting_

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_She was broken._

_That was the only word you could use to describe her. The blonde pale girl was broken. Under the pouring rain, the girl just sat on the street, shattered. Abandoned by all, she had decided to just curl up into a ball and fade away under the incessant rain. She looked up towards the cloudy sky, and smiled a cynical smile._

'I guess heroes really are only in legends...'_ said the girl, welcoming her death with open arms... till a hand was extended towards to her. Looking up, the blonde saw him. He was a man dressed in all black, matching his spiky black hair perfectly. The slightly ill-looking man looked like anyone else, aside from the long black trench coat he had on. With his umbrella shielding both of them from the rain, the man crouched down, hand still extended._

_"Please, let me save you."_

_He held out his hand. She took it._

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XOXOXOX

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The clashing of steel. That was what stirred me from my reverie. Stopping, I dropped my schoolbag to lighten my load, drawing my bokken. I had left Clarent - my usual weapon of choice - at home, so all I had was the wooden sword that was in my hand. The practice sword in my hand paled in comparison to Taiga's bloodthirsty shinai, but it would have to do. Sticking to the wall, I peeked from around the corner. Two men of tall stature wielding weapons of old smashed their weapons into each other, both trying to kill the other. The killing intent was rolling off of the both of them in waves. It was a whirlwind of slashes and stabs, and I definitely wouldn't stand a chance if I happened to land into the crossfire. it would be safer to stay back, gather some more information, then retreat.

Green eyes met blue. The girl by the white-haired swordsman saw me. I sensed no ill intent in her eyes, which were telling me to run as far away as humanly possible. I agreed. Those... entities weren't human. That, I was sure of. Their movements were just too fast and just too strong, and the aura they were giving off was just... wrong. I decided to follow the black-haired girl's advice, and turned away... and froze. "Oh no, a witness."

I could feel the blue lancer's eyes on me. I could feel the murderous intent (mixed with a little reluctance, for some reason) switch targets from the tanned man in red to me. I could feel the nervousness seep in. I gripped my bokken tighter and tighter as the lancer walked closer, casually twirling his red lance. "It's such a shame to have to kill off such a cute girl. Just stand still, and it'll all be over in a flash."

Instead of replying to the flirtatious comment, I ran with all of my might. As I was out of the girl's sight, I poured prana into my legs, filling in the unnecessary gaps in my skin, muscles, blood vessels, and bones, Reinforcing them. It was a Magecraft taught to me by my father, so that I'd be able to protect my brother in case any of his less... friendly acquaintances from his mercenary days wanted to drop by and eradicate the Emiya name.

Of course, I'd have to start by protecting myself first, or else the lancer would run me through. No matter how strong he was, it would be a little embarrassing to be killed by a man in blue tights.

I had to wonder, though, why these... PEOPLE were here. The only answer I could come up with was the thing that tormented my Father around a decade ago. He said that Shirou and I weren't going to have to worry about it, since it would take quite a few decades for the event to happen again, but somehow these superhumans - Servants, according to my father - were here. I should've pressed him more. It would've been helpful to know more about these entities.

Reinforcement increased my speed exponentially, putting quite a distance between me and the lancer. It wouldn't be enough, though, and I knew it. I saw the two super-entities clash earlier. That lancer could close a twenty meter gap in the blink of an eye. I had no chance of escape. All I could do was stand my ground.

I decided to stop in the hallway. The narrow stairwell would only prevent me from slashing, giving the lancer more stabbing power. There was no need to give the already overpowered lancer even more advantages. I'd like to go to the rooftop, but I'd probably be cut down before I could reach it. We were only on the second floor. There was still one more floor to go before I could reach the roof, and the blue warrior would no doubt catch up by then.

Reading some of Father's old notes on battle tactics have finally paid off, at the very least.

As the lancer walked up the stairway, I started to flood the bokken in my hand with Prana. The man, feral yet rueful smirk on his face, sent a glare towards me. I flinched. It was my first time fighting someone other than Father, and that was just a casual spar. This opponent was a killing machine, outclassing me in all aspects. His lance's bloodlust was just indescribable. It seemed to always point at my heart, declaring its intention to stab it with its mere existence.

The result of my flinching was me nearly breaking my bokken. Luckily, it didn't shatter under the Prana strain. My bokken was now as strong and as durable as a steel pipe, and any mundane weapon would only be able to dent it. Too bad I wasn't going up against a mundane weapon. Even Reinforced, my wooden sword could probably only take a few hits till shattering, maybe six at most. The red lance the blue lancer had was just too powerful, too legendary. The lancer, seeing my battle stance, smirked. "Ah, so you want to play around first. Fine by me."

The strike came at me with the speed of an arrow. A red blur of death left his side and sailed for my neck, lusting for my blood. I wasn't planning on giving it any. As fast as I could, I parried the strike, a slice as deep as a paper cut marking my neck as the lance thrust through the air next to my head. I was lucky that he wasn't trying his best, but then again, why would he have to try his best against a girl who he's completely better than?

He sent another lazy stab my way. I blocked another lazy stab. Cracks started to form on my Bokken, the dark lines making their way down the bamboo. It would only survive a few more clashes.

Unluckily, I didn't have to survive a few more clashes. The lancer seemed to want to finish the job already. "It's nice to know that you can hold yourself in a fight, Missy."

"The name's Altria. Altria Emiya," I responded, holding out my almost-broken bokken. The lancer chuckled, spinning his lance around playfully. I gritted my teeth. Was there really nothing that I could do? Would I die, without any drive, without any ideals, without even having protected my brother? "I'm not fond of the name 'Missy'."

"Oo, so the girl has some bark to go along with her bite," chuckled Lancer, his arrogant grin starting to get on my nerves. Seriously, couldn't this guy just be quiet? "It's a shame, really, that you had to die before even summoning a Servant."

So the Grail War was back. Kiritsugu had said that it wasn't going to happen any time soon, so why was it happening now? There was something awfully suspicious about this. Did it have something to do with the mark on the back of my hand? Was that the mark of a Master? I had no time to gather my thoughts, as the lancer launched two meters of steel at me.

This time, I couldn't stop it. The spear lanced itself into my heart. It felt like hell. It was like someone set fire to my chest, and the fire just started to spread to the rest of my body. I was paralyzed with pain. Shock stopped me from doing anything, not that I could've done anything.

I was going to die wasting Kiritsugu Emiya's gift. I was going to die, empty inside, in the ethereal light of the moon. But it was okay.

I didn't have much to live for anyway.

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XOXOXOX

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_"I told you not to come in here, Altria" said Kiritsugu, who caught the blonde girl red handed. Speaking of the blonde girl, she was terrified. She had never seen that expression on her father's face before. Usually her father had a cheery, care-free look on his face, like he was just happy to be with her. At that moment, his face was filled with emotionless apathy that chilled her to the bone._

_Taking the book - Thaumaturgical Theory - away from her, Kiritsugu asked, "How much do you know?" Altria flinched away, trying to make herself as small as possible. She only wanted to know what her adoptive father did for a living. How could she have known that a bookcase in his study led to an armory, littered with swords and guns alike? How could she have known that a musty tome on the only desk that didn't have weapons on it held secrets worth more than weapons?_

_"...You are a Magus, a practitioner of the art of Thaumaturgy. To be specific, you are a notorious mercenary know to most as the elusive Magus Killer," recited the ten year old girl, still intimidate by the blank look on the assassin's face. Silence reigned, till Kiritsugu sighed, and lifted his... inhuman expression. "I-Is what's written in these books... real?"_

_"...There's a lot I have to tell you about, kid."_

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XOXOXOX

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My eyes opened to the night sky. I tried to remember where I was, when it hit me. I had just been killed. This led to a lot of thoughts: was this where people went after they died? Was this the end of my journey? Did I just die a dreamless husk of a human being? Deciding to stop that train of thought, I sat up. I scanned my surroundings. I found my bokken, stained with blood, a red gem necklace thing, and the pool of blood that I had just been lying in. How had I survived. The only clue I had was the necklace, but I had no other evidence. I had no time to think either. I had to get out of the school, and quickly. My blood pool was cold, but by no means dry. Not much time had passed. It was completely possible that the lancer and the swordsman were still there.

Deciding that staying put would only get me killed again, I got up. I had to get a change of clothes first. My yellow bloodstained uniform was just too eye catching. I decided that the gym equipment room might have a change of clothes, I raced downstairs and raided it. All I could find were a PE shirt and bloomers. Having no choice, I put them on. The shirt was too loose around my chest, while the bloomers were clenching my derriere a little too tightly. That spoke a lot about my figure, but I decided to shove that unnecessary thought out of my mind in favor of getting home, where Father's Bounded Fields would at least alert me of the armed entities in skin-tight jumpsuits. I picked up my satchel from where I left it, stuffed my bloodied clothes into it, and left the campus.

On the way home, I thought things over. First, I had to assess the situation. The Holy Grail War, the thing that caused my Father to die, was back a few decades too early. Father didn't like to touch on that subject, since his Servant loathed him, and that the two people closest to him had died. As far as I know, the only good thing that came out of it was the world's safety and Shirou Emiya.

Shoot, Shirou. I had to protect him. If not out of my own sisterly love for him, I had to do it for Kiritsugu. Shirou was the only one who saved him from insanity. He was the Magus Killer's lifeline when he needed one most. Kiritsugu would be crushed if Shirou died a bloody death. Luckily, I heard that he had to go out of town for a few weeks to do business with one of Kiritsugu's acquaintances in Misaki City. Er... Touhou, was it? Oh well, it didn't really matter. All I knew was that I had to keep Shirou out of this War mess. Before I could think further, a chill crawled its way up my spine, as a creepingly innocent laugh echoed across the residential area.

"Hello, Onee-san!" I whipped myself around, trying to find the owner of that creepy voice. I couldn't find her. The voice seemed to be coming from all angles, so I couldn't pinpoint the exact location of the owner. The only way to have that kind of effect was with Magecraft. Another Magus. Was she a Master too? And what was with this "Onee-san" business? I had no sister. Unless... "You better summon a Servant soon, 'cause we're gonna meet up later! Isn't that right, Berzerker?"

A thunderous roar, contrasting the soft tone of the girl, shook the neighborhood. I instantly froze up, my hand reaching out of instinct for a hilt that wasn't there. That roar wasn't normal. It wasn't anything capable of being uttered by a human being, or even by those Servants. They seemed to be human, albeit with exponentially augmented abilities. This seemed to come from a beast. It was... different, and it was dangerous. It was like a death cry. Whatever the thing was, I didn't want to face it. "He he he! See ya later, Onee-chan! Oo, and say hello to Onii-san for me!"

There was only one possibility as to who owned that voice. One of the girls who died during the war was Irisviel von Einsbern. Father didn't like to talk about her. All he'd say, after days of persuasion, was that she was his wife and that she had died in vain for him. It wouldn't be farfetched to say that they had a kid, right? Before I could question her, the oppressive aura left.

Thanking the Root that the lancer hadn't showed up while I was distracted by the girl's soft murmurings, I broke into a sprint. It hurt my still sore chest to do so, but it was better than meeting another participant in the war. I'd met three Servants and two Masters already. If I had to see another Servant sometime soon, I'd choose to see my own. I'd have to consult Father's tomes later on how to do it, but I needed to get the summoning over with. Shirou would depart tomorrow afternoon. I needed my Servant to be able to protect Shirou properly till then.

I finally reached the Japanese-styled home Kiritsugu left for Shirou and I. I reached into my satchel's side-pocket for the housekeys and opened the door. It was deafeningly silent. Taiga must have left already, and Shirou must be busy packing in his room. I checked the time on a nearby wall clock. 8:30pm. I hoped that I hadn't worried Shirou with how late I was. I shoved those thoughts out of my head. I had to focus on the summoning.

It Shirou had his shed, I had my room. As per Kiritsugu's request, I was to be given his room. This was because he had trusted me with his, to put it bluntly, boy toys. Quickly locking my door, I tossed my bag onto my bed and made my way towards the bookshelf. No, the bookshelf did not contain books of magecraft. It had everyday mundane books... except for one. I tugged on a book titled "Canaan", and flooded it with Prana. That made the bookshelf swivel, revealing a hidden stairwell. I made my descent.

I was now in Kiritsugu's hidden armory. It was a dimly lit gray room with absolutely no appeal whatsoever, unless dull greys and dusty browns were your idea of appeal. In the middle was a desk, probably where he'd sort out stuff for his next mission. To my left were multiple weapons. It was a part of his "collection" of guns and the like that he'd amassed from his mercenary days. Leaning against the wall was the suitcase which held Kiritsugu's Conceptual Weapon. He taught me how to use it, but even with super-powered warriors knocking at my door, I still felt weird, wielding what was essentially my father's bones. On the wall in front of me were multiple bookshelves, all from the dens of foes he's felled. He usually burned said dens, but the ones he didn't he raided. Apparently he amassed a decent amount of books. They ranged from the bare basics like Alteration to highly specific Magecraft like Marble Phantasms. There was nothing near the wall on my right except for a whiteboard and a box of markers and erasers, where I assume that he planned his missions.

I quickly scanned the bookshelf to see if the book I needed was there. I came up with absolutely nothing. I sighed. It would've been too optimistic to assume that the armory would have everything I needed. I mean, it did have that book that forced Kiritsugu to reveal Magecraft to me, and it did give me the materials and knowledge to make Clarent, my pride and joy, but to expect even more perfect moments would be presumptuous.

A loud crash shook me from my thoughts. I froze. Just what was happening upstairs? Without thinking, I picked up Clarent from the weapons rack and went upstairs. As I bounded the corner and emerged into the hallway, I saw a red-headed blur - Shirou, without a doubt - fly, making it to the backyard. Before I could go outside and affirm my brother's safety, I stopped.

The man in blue was back. Damn it. He grimaced as his gaze landed on me who had an actual sword in hand this time. "Missy, I don't know how you lived through my lance's thrust, but why didn't you stay dead? Now I have to kill the boy too, for the secrecy of the war." Blinding rage filled my eyes. This man just barges into my home, knocks my brother through a few doors, and has the nerve to threaten to kill the both of us. It ticked me off. Instead of wasting my breath with a response, I instead flooded Clarent with prana. This wasn't to Reinforce it like with my broken bokken. This time, I wanted to activate the runes etched onto Clarent. With dumb luck and a lot of experimentation in the armory (and a little physics), I had figured out a rune array that compressed the air around it. The compressed air both sharpened the blade and protected it against attacks. I could even launch the compressed air by swinging the blade while deactivating the rune array. I'm not sure where I got the idea, but it just feels... RIGHT when I use it. This was Clarent, my Mystic Code, only made possible by the dumb luck that seemed to thrive among those surrounding Shirou.

I launched the blade of air, not at him, but at the wall beside me. The thin walls broke, till the open backyard was visible from my view. Reinforcing my legs, I jumped, launching myself towards my brother. The lancer, noticing my movement, jumped too, gambling that I was going to the backyard too. If I launched myself with the force of a springboard, the lancer launched himself with the force of a rocket. By the time I was there, the lancer was crouching, like a lion ready to pounce. "Damn!"

I dropped to the ground, raising Clarent. The red lance struck the blade, going just above my neck. It was another close call, far too many for just one night. I had to get this lancer off of my back, and quickly. Shirou's life could be in danger-

Wait, where was Shirou!? He wasn't in the backyard anymore. He couldn't have gone into the house, since the blue man was blocking the way, so that meant he was in the shed. Just as I jumped away from the man, my red-haired brother emerged from his favorite place, a wrench in hand. Then he did what I have to say was the most idiotic thing I saw today. He threw the wrench at the powerful, seemingly unstoppable warrior of death. "Get away from my Nee-san, you dastard!"

Lancer knocked the wrench away with ease, now agitated. He turned away from me, apparently forgetting about the girl who had cheated death before. All his focus, all his blood-lust, was focused on Shirou Emiya. There would be no escape for him unless someone were to save him... and I planned to be that someone. Lancer growled, "How dare you call me a dastard, you insignificant brat!"

Just as the man charged into the shed, I charged too. I realized a few things, though. One, he was closer to the shed. Therefore, it would be quicker for him to reach and kill Shirou. Two, he was faster than me. Even if he was twenty meters away, he'd close the distance faster than me even if I was only five meters away. Three, he was stronger than me. Even if I got to Shirou first, the lancer would just smack me away. I couldn't save Shirou by myself.

I needed a Servant. I had no time to summon one, but I needed a Servant.

I entered the shed, Clarent charged. I was too late, though. Lancer had Shirou pinned up to the wall by his neck, lance pointed at his heart. Shirou pleaded with his eyes, "Run, Altria!" I refused. We were either going to live together or die together. Shirou was my only relative left. I didn't know what I'd do with myself if he died. I simply had nothing else to live for.

"Please, let us live!" My cry wasn't directed at Lancer. I had no hope of convincing him not to kill us. I knew that something was watching, waiting to be drawn. All it needed was someone to use it. I was calling out to it. As if by my command, the floor lit up in a strange pattern - a Formalcraft circle. Why was that here? Had Kiritsugu placed it there? Why would he place Formalcraft in the shed? Before Lancer could react (and before I could get my answers), the room was filled with a blinding light, followed by the sound of clashing steel. When the light died down, Shirou and I were on the floor, lying underneath a man with swords.

If Kiritsugu loved his trench coat, the man was fond of fatigues. He had on army apparel from head to toe, from his shiny combat boots on his feet to the black beret covering what appeared to be red going white hair, if the silvery-orange lock of hair sticking out of the hat was a telltale sign. His outfit gave off an intimidating aura, an aura that made you want to obey him an almost any cost. What shocked me most were the swords in his hand. They were exactly the same as the swords the gray haired man used against the lancer. The man, ignoring Shirou, just stared at me. Then he gave a smirk.

"So we meet again... Servant Saber. Upon your summoning, I have come forth. I ask of you, are you my Master?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry to keep you waiting. I've been very busy, but I eventually got around to doing this. As always, please leave your comments and questions in the form of a review, and I'll respond to them here:**

_**Lots of people have been thinking about this Saber's identity. Yes, it's a version of Shirou. No, it isn't EMIYA, and the origin story is in canon. It isn't Fate Extra's either. I'm actually kind of surprised that no one got it right. **_

**Disclaimer is still in effect**

**Enjoy!**

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_Chapter 2: A Fight in the Moonlight_

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"I ask of you, are you my Master?"

"Y-Yes, yes I am," I replied, still lying under the man as the rays of the moon shone into the shed, outlining the swordsman in an ethereal light. I had so many questions to ask him. Why did he have that other swordsman's weapons? What was his past? Why is this war happening? Before I could ask anything else, Saber suddenly stiffened, a grimace on his face. He turned away from me, his swords at the ready.

"Master, I'd like to talk about our... circumstances later, but for now, I'll have to fend off that Lancer. Stay safe," said my Servant, springing into action. He dashed out of the shed, where the clashing of steel resumed. I wanted to follow. I felt a strange... attraction towards my Servant, for some reason. I wanted to be by his side, to see him fight, and maybe even fight alongside him. Before I could chase after Saber, a hand held me back. I looked over my shoulder. Shirou, shock and worry on his face, had his hand desperately clinging onto it. The urge to comfort him overcame the urge to follow my Servant into the fray. I put the hand that wasn't clinging onto Clarent onto his, turning around to face him. How was I going to explain all of this to him? I didn't want to expose him to the world of Magecraft, a world where death followed you with every step. I wanted to give him a normal life where his happiness could thrive. I didn't want to plunge him into this Magus madness. But I had to. Sure, I _might _be able to play off Lancer as a crazed homicidal maniac with a spear, but there would be no other way to explain how a man with swords that Shirou had never seen before had suddenly appeared at his Nee-san's command. I had to tell him. "There's something I'd like to tell you, Shirou."

"...There's something I'd like to tell you too, Altria Nee-san," said Shirou, his face tilted down so that I couldn't read his expression. He held out his hand, and in the blink of an eye, a wrench appeared in his hand. I gasped. He had just used Projection, a magecraft classified by most Magi as an apprentice's spell, used to replicate tools and the like. "I am a Magus, and I assume that you're one too. Am I right, Altria Nee-san?"

I stepped away from him. When did he first learn Magecraft? Who did he learn the art from? Kiritsugu never told me that he had been training Shirou in the Thaumaturgical field. Then again, he never said that he didn't. I shook those thoughts out of my head as I realized that the sounds of steel and battle were only getting louder. I raced out of the shed, yelling, "Yes I am. Stay put for the moment, Shirou!"

As I emerged from the shed and onto the battlefield**,** it was like I was seeing the fight from earlier between the young girl's companion and the lancer, only this time there was a clear winner. The girl's swordsman was just about able to hold off Lancer's onslaught of attacks. Mine was able to push Lancer back. There was no difference in their forms, that much I could tell. They both had same stances and motions. It was just that Saber looked like he was _meant_ for this role, while the steel-wielder earlier was just more proficient in something else. Saber's movements were just more flowing, more powerful, while the man's was more raw. In melee combat, it seemed that Saber was better. Lancer lashed out with his spear yet again. In response, Saber brought up the sword in his left, retaliating with the one in his right and forcing the man back. "Damn, you're good! I didn't think I'd need to pull out my Noble Phantasm this early! I won't lose to you today, whoever you are!"

Noble Phantasm? Before I could even think about the possibilities, the man in blue leapt away from Saber, barely dodging a slice to the chest. He held back his lance, looking like he was going to throw it at Saber. Saber flinched a little, but readied his own stance, as if he knew what Lancer was going to do. "Gae-"

"Rho-"

"-Bolg!" Lancer threw his lance. Earlier I described his thrusts as having the speed of an arrow. He threw the lance with the speed of a bullet. The red line of death turned into a red missile of death, a seemingly unstoppable force. The lance - Gae Bolg - roared with glee at finally being used to its full potential. Saber had no chance to dodge without getting hurt. After that, Lancer would simply kill the weakened Saber. No, Saber couldn't dodge. He had to stop that unstoppable force.

"-Aias!" Out of the swordsman's hands came forth a shield of purple, the shield blooming into existence. Seven petals stood to face the red lance of death. Before I could question his... interesting choice of shield motif and color (Seriously, why purple flowers?), the unstoppable force met the immovable object. A roar of clashing weapons cried out into the silent night. Neither one wanted to relent, each one trying to stop the other. As the growl of Gae Bolg started to soften, a petal fell. Gashes started to appear all over Saber's arms and legs, blood staining his fatigues. Still, the fight continued, and Saber's body continued to get hurt. By the time the ominous light of Gae Bolg died down, Saber's shield - Rho Aias - was down to its last petal, and Saber seemed to be on his last leg. Lancer smirked, amazed by Saber's shield. "Wow! You survived a thrown Gae Bolg. Sure, you aren't unscathed, but the fact that you're still standing is amazing. I can't wait to fight you more!"

"I'd say that I was surprised that you almost broke through Rho Aias, but I'd be lying," replied Saber panting, It seemed like the shield took a lot out of him, but nevertheless, he projected the two weapons that he had wielded earlier. One was as dark as obsidian, seemingly blending into the night sky. The other was as white as the moon. Taking my mind off the blades, I wondered what he meant by what he said. It's like he knew what Gae Bolg could do before the fight even started. I decided to question that later. I held up Clarent, the rune array still deactivated. Lancer's Master could back the blue man up. I had to be ready for anything. I didn't notice the way my body was shaking, or the way Lancer cringed as he put his fingers to his temple.

"But Master, I _must_ fight this Saber!" complained the man, lowering his lance. He seemed to be communicating with his Master telepathically. It was likely that said Master was too far to support his Servant, but it was just as likely that he was just lying in wait. I still had to keep my guard up, even as Saber lowered his, racing to my side. Saber was a little too comfortable with this situation. Did he have an exceptional mana sensing ability to affirm the lack of a Master nearby, or was it something more? "Fine, I'll retreat. You're lucky that I was only on recon today, Saber." Lancer then leapt as far as he could, clearing about thirty meters. Rather than give chase, Saber instead turned towards me.

"You okay, Master?" asked Saber, towering over me. I nodded, still looking at the clothes stained with blood. He gave me a slight smile, till he froze. In the blink of an eye, another sword was in his hand. Make that six swords. These swords were more like long daggers, with tiny hilts and long, slim blades. Saber had the hilts in his knuckles, looking like Wolverine if he was tossed into a barracks. "Someone's coming. I doubt that it's hostile, but ready yourself nonetheless, Master."

"Of course, Saber," I said, charging Clarent. The runes compressed the air around it, forming the blade of air that I was so proud of. It looked pretty see-through. What should I call it? Transparent air? Invisible air? Once I thought of that last one, my head started to pound, like something was trying to get out of it. A suppresse memory, perhaps? Before I could think about it, the backyard fence was busted down. Saber and I whipped around to face our assailants, Clarent pointed at the opening and the slim swords crossed together. Once a silhouette of the gate-crashers was visible, Saber threw the swords not at the figures, but at where their shadows would've been. When the dust settled, our opponents' identities were revealed: it was the black-haired girl and the silver haired swordsman from earlier. Now, they apparently couldn't move. They were fidgeting around, as if they were restrained by invisible bonds. It seemed that the swords that Saber used had magical properties, but a mere projection couldn't do that. I'd have to ask him about that later. If he learned how to project rune-etched weapons, he might know a few arrays that cause paralysis. I could use some of them-

"Snap out of it please, Master," said Saber, catching me fangirling on rune arrays in front of enemies that would no doubt want to see me dead. He then pointed the blades in his right hand towards the swordsman and- was that Rin Tohsaka? Yeah, no doubt about that. Earlier, she was too far away to identify, but now only a short distance away, there was no denying that the girl- Magus in front of me was the Idol of the School, the ever-enigmatic Rin Tohsaka. She sent me a glare, then for some reason stopped, wide-eyed. I took a peek at where she was looking. Shirou Emiya, with a Projected bow and a few arrows in hand, just stood still, shocked.

"Eh? Tohsaka?" mumbled Shirou, nearly dropping his makeshift weapons. Calling them makeshift was putting it nicely. The bow's arms were uneven in length, so it was almost impossible to fire straight shots, and it didn't help that the arrows were a little crooked. It seemed that Shirou didn't specialize in Projecting weapons. I'd give it probably one hit before they'd shatter. "What are you doing here? And what's that glowing Crest on your right hand?" I looked at it. On the back of her hand was a glowing red mark that looked like a ripple on a pond caused by a drop of rain. I looked at my own right hand. Before it was just a faint gray tattoo looking thing. Now it bloomed into what looked like a red, glowing sword with butterfly wings jutting out of the blade. The sword looked eerily like Father's. I stopped that train of thought in favor of getting in front of Shirou. There would be no way that his, to be blunt, crappy magecraft could protect him. To be honest, it would be more likely for it to backfire on him, possibly shooting himself. Aside from being completely embarrassing, it would result in him getting wounded. I didn't want that. "So you have one of those... people too. I didn't know that you were a Magus."

"I didn't know that you were one either," muttered Rin, barely able to speak. It appeared that the restraining magic in the swords was working pretty well. The other swordsman couldn't do much either, though he was slowly inching his hand towards the red hilt. It seemed that while normal Magi could barely move an inch, people like Saber could fight the Magecraft, apparently. "Er... your name is Altria, right? Could you please ask your Servant to remove these blades? They're making me a little uncomfortable."

"It would be wiser to end the Servant, Master," suggested Saber, though he looked reluctant while saying it. I also noted that he didn't say "should", like it would be the most beneficial path, but it wouldn't be the one he'd like to choose. It seemed that there was a little compassion in those steely eyes. Speaking of eyes, his eyes were exactly the same as Shirou's golden-brown ones, only sharper and colder. Still, the resemblance was uncanny. It scared me a little. What if Shirou's Projection ability were to progress to the point that he'd be protecting little female Magi on their escapades of destruction just like my own Projection-wielding Servant? I didn't have time to think about it as five feet of steel flew at me.

Saber was just as quick, dashing in front of me and deflecting the sword-bullet with his blades. In response, the man – probably Archer, due to the accuracy of his ranged attack – shot a sword from the floor somehow, hitting the hilt of Saber's blade, uprooting it and freeing him. He quickly picked up his Master and bolted, just as a blade sunk into the fence. Saber grimaced. I guess he didn't like it when his foes were able to escape. He turned towards me, just as I dispelled the rune array. Relinquishing his hold on his projections, he said, "Master... and you, boy. We need to talk."

* * *

XOXOXOX

* * *

"You can cook?" I asked Saber, pressing the ice compress onto my brother's back. A big ugly bruise the size of a platter was on it, but aside from that and a similar bruise across his abdomen – apparently if he hadn't Reinforced his stomach, Lancer's foot would've gone through him – he was fine. Still, the bruises were pretty dark. It should take them at least a week to fade away, even if I tended to him 24/7. He wouldn't be able to go on that trip to Misaki. It caused him so much pain from just walking a few meters: extended travel was a big no-no, especially when he couldn't even walk to the kitchen without being wracked with pain. Luckily, my Servant happened to know how to cook. When it was declared that my brother had no chance of cooking food for Saber and I, the former stepped up to the plate and donned the apron, saving the ingredients from my horrible cooking skills. I was about as good at cooking as Kiritsugu, and he had the magical ability to turn food into charcoal, so I was glad that Saber was the one in the kitchen. Now, I could tend to my charge. "You don't usually see 'cooking' and 'swordsmanship' in the same skillset."

"I've heard that a lot," said Saber, plating the food. It truly looked surreal, a man in fatigues wearing a kitchen apron and handling great-smelling food. My stomach – Shirou liked to call it a bottomless pit – rumbled, echoing my sentiments. I was practically salivating once all the food was on the table. It was a long day surviving death blows and summoning super-humans. I wanted just a little food before I'd have to plan for a bloodbath in my own neighborhood. And it was good food. It was on par with my own brother's cuisine, valuing both taste and nutrition. "I've also heard that with these cooking skills, I'd make a good wife."

"...That must've been pretty bizarre, Saber," I mumbled, shoveling the ambrosial food down as fast as I could. I wondered about the unlucky guy who commented on Saber's apparent wifely skills. Did he get trashed by Saber for the insult or something? Judging by the Servant's light-hearted chuckle, I was wrong. After polishing off his first bowl of rice - I was already half way through my third - Saber smiled warmly.

"Well, she was a pretty tomboyish archer," he replied, actually thinking about my half-hearted comment. If I had never seen his steely will in combat, I would've thought that he was a carefree naive man that hoped to save everyone.

I mean who would ever use that as an ideal?

"But this isn't what I wanted to talk about," interjected Saber, abruptly stopping the casual talk as his warm golden eyes gained a sharp edge to them. I stopped too, though I still continued to eat. "We'll need to talk about strategy. Anything I need to factor into my plans, Master?"

Before I could answer, Shirou shot up, surprising me. What surprised me more, though were the bruise marks... more like the lack of them. The bruises were gone! As if Shirou had some extremely potent recovery Magecraft on him. I knew for sure that Father had zero experience with Magecraft that healed. He did specialize in doing the opposite, but knowing how to hurt using Magecraft was a far cry from knowing how to heal. I also knew that the Armory didn't have any books related to it (Father made sure to dispose of the Dead Apostle tomes before he let me get my mitts on his armory). So how in the world did his injuries heal in the blink of an eye? "I need to get to Misaki tomorrow. Could you please keep that fact in mind?"

"But you were just recently injured," I said, cutting him off. I tried to gently push him back down. In response, he gently pushed my hand back, standing up to his full height. "There might still be complications aside from your bruises-"

"Trace on," murmured Shirou, ignoring me completely. Suddenly, he thrust out his right hand, as more beads of sweat poured down his face. A sheath, a beautiful sheath shimmered into existence. I was instantly captivated. The sheath gave off an intensely divine aura, as if it was made by the gods themselves. I wouldn't be surprised if they did. The craftsmanship on the sheath was unreal. The blue-and-gold scabbard looked as if it could survive anything. It was like Shirou hadn't used Magecraft to create this. This felt like actual Magic. Saber, on the other hand, wasn't as awestruck, instead looking at the scabbard in silence. "This is Avalon. The history behind the Magecraft of this sheath is a little long, so I won't go into detail. This basically accelerates my body's ability to regenerate, giving me an extremely good healing factor. I've recovered completely, Nee-san. Trust me."

A healing factor... wait, there's something wrong with this. How did Shirou get access to this kind of Magecraft? And who would have access to an incredible regenerative ability and just share it with the son of the Magus Killer? "Shirou... just where did this Avalon thing come from?"

"Well, after Dad taught me the basics to Magecraft like Structural Analysis and Projection, I had a vision of this scabbard. I had the sudden urge to Project it. When Dad walked in on me holding the thing, he decided to take my Magecraft studies more seriously-"

"But Father never told me that he taught you."

"Maybe he wanted to keep it a secret. I mean, he didn't tell me either. Anyway, after a lot of practice, I was able to properly Project it into the real world. In fact, my first test was..." Shirou stopped. I stopped too, putting my chopsticks down in response to his abrupt halt (and in result to the lack of food on the table). "...Well, it was to transfer a copy of Avalon into you."

I reached for my chest, patting the nearly flat horizon. Transfer it... INTO me? How did he do that? I imagined Shirou Projecting a scalpel into existence, slicing my chest open, and placing the metal sheath inside of me, all with the help of Nurse Kiritsugu. I instantly shuddered, till I realized something. That was how I survived having my heart stabbed to a pulp by that spear that the Lancer called Gae Bolg. There could be no other answer. Shirou saved my life. "...Well, I don't have any other reason to keep you here, so I guess you can go." I also didn't want him to be around for the war. There was no need to drag him into this mess. Shirou smiled at my reluctant acceptance, and bowed to Saber, saying, "I may not know where you come from or what you want from my sister, but I leave her in your care."

Saber nodded back. After righting himself up, Shirou turned around, threw a "Good night" over his shoulder, and left, probably going to finish packing his things. I was surprised by his lack of concern. I thought he was going to at least ask Saber for his name or something. Then again, Shirou _did _seem to feel comfortable in Saber's presence and vice versa. Strangely comfortable, as if they were long lost brothers, or something. I didn't have time to think about it as the mood suddenly dropped.

"Now, let's talk about the War." Saber swiftly moved, sitting on the cushion right across from me. The intense state kind of unnerved me. Behind those warm pools of gold he used for eyes was cold, unwavering steel. It chilled me to the bone. The lancer, while wanting to kill me, was upfront with his intentions. I couldn't sense any pretenses, and he seemed to dislike pretenses in the first place. Saber, on the other hand, was way more secretive. I haven't been with him long enough to confirm it, but that's what it seemed. "So what do you know so far?"

I told him that I only knew that the War was a manic slaughterfest featuring superhuman legends and sly Magi and that my dad was a former contestant. I was expecting a sigh or something in reply to his Master's total lack of knowledge. He was pretty understanding, simply moving on without commenting. It was as if he could identify with me or something. After my little speech, he filled me in on what Servants are, what the objectives of the War are, and various other facts about my favorite battle royale. One of those facts was about the real identities of the Servants.

Apparently, when I said that the Servants were legends, I was right. They were legends that stood the test of time, beings that accomplished great achievements, and after their death, they became the object of worship and lore, ascending into a new plane of existence. Those beings called Heroic Spirits are made into familiars and tethered to the Masters. Basically, this meant that legends like Perseus and King Arthur are running around as Servants of the Magi for this War. For example, thanks to Lancer's display of his Noble Phantasm - which was basically a Servant's ultimate skill, their ace-in-the-hole - we knew that he was actually Cu Chulainn, wielder of Gae Bolg. Interestingly enough, Saber refrained from giving away his identity. I wondered why, but I decided against questioning him. I'd probably just receive a glare or something for asking the secretive Saber about the skeletons in his closet. I'd have to wait till he gets more comfortable with me. For now, I'd just have to sit back and wait. "Now, we'll have to get you to the church to 'announce' your role as a Master in this War to the mediator."

Wait… the mediator? But the only church around here is the one on the top of the hill. That would mean…

...Oh great. It's time to deal with the priest.


End file.
